Moments in Time
by Yani Cardaria
Summary: Short, somewhat related drabbles featuring random events. No chronological time line. 1000 Words or Less.
1. Falling

Characters/Pairing: Link Larkin + Tracy Turnblad  
Word Count: 191

--

Link could remember the exact moment his admiration started to change into something more. Admittedly, he never really acknowledged her existence until he saw her in detention; but one firm smack on her bottom ensured her as a permanent fixture in his life.

Not that he minded, of course.

Even so, it was the next day that the extraordinary feelings had started; the day he felt his heart clench and the butterflies start to flutter. He had been focused on twisting his hips to the rockin' beat when she made her way to the center of the dance floor. She had exchanged a few words and hugged one of the Negro boys; at this he was surprised to feel just a small pang of jealousy; then made her way to the center of the white side.

As he watched her dance her way into a multitude of hearts, he felt a smile growing on his lips. When she finally made eye contact and twirled her way towards the stage, he knew it then; just as surely as he knew it now.

_Trace._

That was the day he started to fall for her.

--

A/N: Wow... it's been... four years since I last posted anything! Yeesh.

Anyhow, every time I watch this scene in the movie, I'm always thinking - that's the moment! That's when it begins! It's just too cute.

Also, thanks to Saro who was my temp-beta for this! Hopefully, I've improved!


	2. Useless Imperfection

Characters/Pairing: Velma Von Tussle

Word Count: 345

--

She started every day the same. She woke promptly at 4:30; not a minute too early, nor a minute too late. The correct amount of sleep was fundamental to keeping herself fresh. Not being one to stay in bed and dillydally, she would quickly begin her morning routine. After her bath, she had to make sure she stayed in long enough to ensure the softest skin without resembling a prune; she would walk to her vanity.

This was where the true ritual began.

She noticed everything. The wrinkles and creases, those few hairs that weren't as golden as the rest, a dainty beauty mark decorating her cheek; all the way down to the flawed curve on her upper lip when she smiled. A rarity for a reason, one could be assured. These shortcomings were visible to all, and were simply unacceptable. She was Miss Baltimore Crabs. She represented beauty to all those who dared question what it was. She would not stand for anything but the utmost perfection.

She quickly plucked out those less than blonde hairs and then lined her lips to fix that unsightly curve. That hideous mole that had once, and only once, been called 'adorable' by her departed husband vanished under countless coats of heavy foundation. At all times, Miss Baltimore Crabs was to show no defects.

She scoffed as she heard her daughter getting up to start the day. The child didn't understand what it was to be truly faultless in everything. If this was the time Amber felt she needed to wake up, she still had much more to learn.

She finished removing those useless imperfections and deliberated her finished work. Even though everything was applied, those colorless hairs removed, and all was symmetrical, something was still off. Her lips twisted into a bitter frown and she stood abruptly, tipping her chair in the process. She tore away from that atrocious mirror and stormed into her closet, her mothers' words ringing through her head.

"_Baby, no matter how hard you try, you will never be my perfect, beautiful angel."_

--

A/N: It must have been hard, growing up and being viewed as a failure.

Thank you to my lovely beta-authors!


	3. He's Corny!

Characters/Pairing: Corny Collins

Word Count: 495

--

Corny Collins was not a shallow man. He was a charmer, certainly, but was able to see beauty in a multitude of aspects from a rainbow of women.

It always started when he left his quiet apartment, heading for the studio. His neighbor, Mrs. Nancy Fisher, was a humble woman who had the misfortune of being married to an abusive drunkard. Every morning, he made sure to pass by her door just as she was returning home from her daily shopping. He would greet her with his ever charismatic smile, and admire the strength she showed when she would smile back. Then, heavy bags in hand; she would push open her door, ready to face another round of fighting and neglect. Though he felt bad for Mrs. Fisher, he knew that the life she had chosen for herself was something she did not regret.

That was the beauty of a strong woman.

Then he would walk by the local flower shop. This little gem was owned and operated by Miss Amy Granger. She always sat, quite demurely, at the counter; running her fingers through her listless auburn hair. Rumor had it that she had lost her lover during the last war, and the news had left her in a prolonged state of shock. He offered her a slight wave and a warm smile, which she shakily returned. It was a pity about her loss and how it affected her, but every day she trudged on.

That was the beauty of a resilient woman.

There were, of course, many other types of women he encountered throughout his day. In each of them Corny found something to respect, something he found rather delightful.

When he arrived at the studio, he would admire Tammy, Shelly, the twins; all of his girls. The confidence they showed was amazing, if sometimes overwhelming. These girls were proud of who they were, and of their accomplishments.

He would admire Amber who would, after receiving a horrible lashing from her mother, get up and smile – putting on a show that all was okay.

He would admire Tracy. In spite of – or perhaps to spite – the negativity around her, her personality was bright and wonderful. She easily outshone the girls who had been dancing on his show for years.

He would admire Brenda. She came by the studio holding her three-month-old baby girl, and he could see the glowing pride she held for her daughter. Though unexpected, Brenda made an excellent mother.

He would admire Miss Maybelle. She let nothing affect her, insults and the like sliding off her curvaceous body to be left in a nonexistence puddle at her feet. Her dignity was outstanding.

Being surrounded by such splendor every day, Corny couldn't help but feel truly fortunate. Frankly, it didn't matter if the world refused to understand. These were his ladies, each one of them a stunning work of art to be admired.

After all, Corny Collins was not a shallow man.

--

A/N: When it comes to Corny, I still can't decide if I would like him better with Maybelle or Amber...

There's something about him with Amber, that is just so charming… but every time I see that scene during "(You) Can't Stop the Beat" where Maybelle eyes him (quite seductively at that) while they're dancing, I start plotting. Heehee… Perhaps it's best if I just keep Corny as the charming little bachelor he is.

Once again, thank you to my beta-authors.


	4. Baby Ruth

Characters/Pairing: Link Larkin/Tracy Turnblad

Word Count: 107

--

He was quickly discovering that _Baby Ruth_ was his new favorite flavor. There was something about chocolate-covered peanuts and fudge-like nougat that he found simply irresistible.

Every time he opened a new bar he paused, savoring the sweet aroma of cocoa. Each bite was worshiped, the delectable mix of nuts and chocolate combining to send him into a little bit of heaven.

Of course, one could argue that _Baby Ruth_ becoming his new fixation had something to do with its tempting association with a certain Tracy Turnblad, and her extraordinarily intoxicating kisses.

In all honesty, he wasn't sure it was a debate he was willing to challenge.

--

A/N: I really enjoy writing from Link's perspective. Of course, they seem to be relatively short…


	5. Breaking the Habit

Characters/Pairing: Prudy Pingleton

Word Count: 294

--

It was habit, really. She made dinner for two. She set the table for two. She always sat on the right side of the couch, leaving enough space for another person. When she prayed, she paused after every line, expecting someone to repeat. Since her husband had been arrested, it had always been two people.

Now, she had to retrain herself. She made dinner for two, and saved the leftovers for the next day. She set the table for two, and washed the unused dishes anyway, because it was only proper. She sat on the right side of the couch, then propped her feet up to stretch lazily on the upholstery.

When she began her prayers, she would force herself to stumble over her words if necessary, refusing to hear the silence that would answer.

When the shadow became too much, she gathered all of her daughter's things. She placed them in the middle of the living room, including that severed jump rope, and lit a match. There, she set ablaze those objects that reminded her so much of Penny. When the girl had proclaimed that she was getting married to the horrid Negro boy, Prudy couldn't take it anymore.

Penny was banned, disowned, and never to step foot in her childhood home again. As Prudy stepped into the cold winter air she knew; this would ensure that her final word was law.

When she heard the beginning of police sirens, Prudy's breath caught. The flame really was beautiful. It licked at the night air, crackling pleasantly to warm her chilled body. It would seem she had forgotten a shawl in her haste. How unfortunate.

When the handcuffs clinked around her wrists, she smiled.

It was okay.

She wouldn't have to be alone anymore.

--

A/N: Sometimes solitude can drive you to extremes you would normally never consider appropriate. I think… If pushed far enough, Prudy is the type of person who would let her situation take control of her actions.

Just a reminder, there is no set timeline. So, I can jump from the past to the future to the present in-between stories. Also, I'm not planning on forming a plot with any of these stories. As of now, they're all stand-alone; just in the same… er… 'Universe'…

Oh, I feel bad for Seaweed! He never gets mentioned by name! He's always called that 'Negro boy' – eheh… I need to write something for him, too!


	6. Guilt

Characters/Pairing: Corny Collins

Word Count: 330

--

The show had been over for six hours, nineteen minutes, and approximately thirty-seven seconds. Thirty-eight… thirty-nine…

Not that Corny had been counting.

Today's taping had been a success, as always. The girls twirled, the boys winked, and he sang his heart out. It had been all smiles, rainbows, and sunshine. Just like yesterday and the day before that, and the day before that.

However, unlike all the days before it, today was an important day. Today was the day he remembered every year. He sat in his dressing room and glanced at the bottle of whiskey on his desk. There was still far too much alcohol left in that damn container.

He took an angry swing, savoring the burn as the liquid traveled down his throat.

_Allison_.

He felt his eyes water and gave himself a hard slap. Boys didn't cry, and men sure as hell never cried.

She had been his missing half. She had been his joy, his sadness – his love; his _everything_. He would have crossed oceans, climbed mountains – all those cheesy things – just for her. Many people wondered about Corny's ideal woman. She, in all her glory, had been it.

_Allison_.

She died four years ago, to this day. During childbirth.

For a child that wasn't even his.

And even though it tore him apart, even though it split his beating heart; she had never looked so beautiful. The child hadn't made it, either.

But her death wasn't the reason he sat here, drinking away his sorrows. The death of the child, his or not, wasn't the reason he sat here in the darkness of the studio.

It was the guilt.

When he buried his wife, he promised himself only one thing: never again. He would not dishonor Allison's memory. Whether she had remained faithful or not, he would never turn to another woman.

He screamed as he threw the bottle to the ground, glass and alcohol flying everywhere.

Last night, he had broken that pledge.

--

A/N: Crap… I feel horrible after writing that… But, even though Corny is a bright ray of sunshine, he has a dark side. Of course, I could just be trying to justify why I'd like to leave him single…

Corny, I still love you!

I need to write something not so angst-filled.


	7. Twitterpated

Characters/Pairing: Wilbur Turnblad/Edna Turnblad & Velma Von Tussle

Word Count: 223

--

The silence in the room was deafening. His wife stood there; face growing red with anger, as he stared dumbly ahead. He attempted to push the blonde woman aside, trying to find the right words to clarify the situation.

"Edna, it's not what you thi—"

"Wilbur Turnblad! I never thought…" her voice drifted off, the anger soon melting into something else. As always, his feelings never seemed to have the greatest timing. There he was, in the arms of another woman, and he felt his heart flutter for his voluptuous beauty; as if it were the first time.

He ignored the other woman as he finally managed to remover her from his person. Rushing to his beautiful bride before she could – and he knew she would – over-analyze the circumstances, he tried to explain. "Edna, you know I would never—"

"Don't you dare touch me, Mr. Turnblad!" She turned aside, watching coolly as Mrs. Von Tussle slipped out the door, giving the plus-sized woman a little sneer.

Of course, as soon as the door chimed and Velma was gone, he received a smart slap that left his cheek throbbing for hours. It wasn't until much later that he realized, even after Tracy brought him some ice to cool the bruised skin, he could still feel that light fluttering deep inside his chest.

--

A/N: The last two stories were a little intense… so… well; you can see that Wilbur's feeling a little twitterpated…


	8. Counting the Breeze

Characters/Pairing: Penny/Seaweed

Word Count: 387

--

The impromptu lunch-picnic had been delicious, the empty containers pilled neatly on top of each other. The two teens, one black the other white, rested under a shaded tree – enjoying the warm Baltimore weather. There was a breeze, a rarity for this time a year, which offered a gentle kiss of wind.

His girl had fallen asleep almost immediately after the meal, mumbling something about him being the key to the best sleep. He settled next to the tree to watch her doze, one of his favorite pastimes whenever the situation arose. He spent the remainder of lunch counting how many times the breeze would send her hair fluttering across her face, covering those sweet lips he loved so much.

When he saw Link and Tracy walking up to join them, signifying the near ending of the lunch period, he kissed her gently on the head.

"Hey baby," he whispered, watching her blink her eyes groggily. She yawned, stretching the kinks out of her back as she looked up at him, sleep clouding her expression.

"Seaweed…" She chose that moment to snuggle into his arm, muffling the remainder of her reply. He chuckled softly, and then gave her side a poke.

"You have to wake up. Lunch is about over." As if to prove his point, the bell chimed to remind the students that they had seven minutes of freedom left before they had to make their way to their second set of classes. She groaned, annoyed at the disturbance and finally sat up, hands wiping the sleep from her eyes. He smiled, amused by the image she made. Link finally joined them, Tracy trailing behind him and talking animatedly. She paused as she looked at Penny and then, smiling, pulled a bemused Link away from the sitting teens.

"Trace…?" Penny looked after her best friend, confused by her retreating back, when Seaweed pulled her attention towards him. He grabbed her chin, eyes locking with hers, and placed a chaste kiss on those tempting lips. She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes drifting close again.

"I guess a few more minutes wouldn't hurt," he concluded, watching as the breeze picked up where it had left off. He smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, staring to count anew.

One…

Two…

Three…

--

A/N: Needed something sweet… and, well – that mentioned Seaweed's name. I think I should be arrested for comma-abuse.


	9. Twist and Shout

Characters/Pairing: Amber Von Tussle

Word Count: 473

--

_Twist. Turn. Twist. Reverse._

Miss Amber Von Tussle, as many enjoyed reminding her, was just an average dancer. She doesn't command the stage like Tracy. She doesn't have the allure of the double-gimmick as did Noreen and Doreen. She certainly didn't have the "girl next door" persona that Lou Ann possessed, or that hidden seductress appeal that was Shelly's forte.

No, all Amber had, especially since her mother had been kicked off the show, was her claim to being average. She used insults and degradation to hide her own insecurities, and played the coy tease to bury her need for attention. She whined, complained, and blamed others to cover up her own faults.

_Twist. Stop. Twist. Pose._

When Tracy Turnblad introduced a new dance, the "Wavin' Raven" – every one immediately took a liking to it. She had said it was inspired by her mom, who had mockingly given her the title. Instantly, Tracy had thought it was swell.

Everyone agreed.

_Turn. Reverse. Twist. Twirl._

Of course, Amber refused to take any enjoyment in being forced to mimic a bird, and quickly voiced her opinion.

She was ignored.

_Twist. Reverse. Hop. Twirl._

All the other kids picked up the dance easily, enjoying the simple footwork with more complex arm movement.

Amber struggled to stay on beat; but no one noticed. She had been pushed to the far back. Out of sight, out of mind – went the saying.

_Hop. Twirl. Twist. Stop._

Five hours after the rehearsal had ended, she still practiced in the studio, determined to perfect it. No one knew she was here. When her mother had still been station manager, Amber had stolen a copy of the keys. She often came back to practice at night, wanting to be better than the other dancers – even if she didn't pick it up as quickly.

_Hop. Twist. Sway. Reverse._

The music stopped abruptly and Amber turned, mortified, to face the culprit. Corny walked towards her, an unassuming expression on his face, and pointed to her left foot.

"Try lifting this leg a little higher during the twist. It'll give you better balance and quicker twirls." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving an embarrassed Amber in his wake.

"What are you doing here?" She asked suddenly, feeling as if her secluded escape had been ruined.

He held up his keys, jingling them slightly, and then continued out the door. She hesitated, unsure if she should proceed since she had been found out, but decided to give his advice a try. When she heard the heavy door close behind him, she started the music up again.

She ran through the routine twice, each time ending closer to staying on beat. She decided – so what if Corny knew she practiced here well into the night.

She didn't have plans to remain average for much longer.

--

A/N: For Tracy 'cause she's oh-so shiny and helped me out oh-so much. I hope you liked it, hun.


	10. Link Larkin

Characters/Pairing: Tracy Turnblad + Link Larkin

Word Count: 425

--

It was undeniable. There was something about Link Larkin that you just couldn't resist. He could walk down the hall and automatically, your eyes would follow. His voice could ring out in the middle of conversation, and you would swoon. Link Larkin was just that kind of guy.

Of course, Tracy was no exception to this teenage law of the universe. Her eyes were drawn to his presence, her ears fine-tuned to his voice. Heck, even her nose could pick out his combination of cologne and his own personal scent. He was simply that deeply ingrained within her.

The only difference between her and everyone else, which made all the difference in the world if you were to ask Link himself, were her reasons. Everyone saw the same thing in him. He was the definition of cool, suave, and always rather charming. He was the crooner you wanted to be, and obviously – the guy you wanted to have.

But Tracy… she saw more. She saw his nerves before performing a number on a show, even when he himself wasn't aware of them. She knew of his childish, and apparently un-cool, habit of skipping buttons on his shirt when he was over excited. Secretly, she found it adorable; but knew better than to tell him this. She knew that he missed being able to run his fingers through his hair, but was willing to sacrifice that feeling for Ultra Clutch perfection.

She knew that he missed his mom, who had been killed by a car crossing a road he drove on everyday, when he was seven. She knew that when his mom had died, he had refused to acknowledge anyone who used his full first name, deciding that day to go by _Link_. She knew that he was scared of loosing his father, who at times would come home terribly sick, suffering from his own personal depression.

She knew that there was times when she was beside him, that he would suddenly turn and clutch her close, as if she would disappear at any given moment. She knew he was still unconfident, anxious, and needing reassurance from her that it was more than okay for him to adore her; that they weren't just an image of two different people who could live, and love together.

She knew all of them – the confident Link, the silly Link, the scared Link, the loving Link; all of his quirks and traits – and loved him as a whole.

That, she knew, is what made her so different from everyone else.

--

A/N: Just a little something from Tracy's point of view. I was going to make it more future-wise, but I decided to keep it neutral.


	11. Celebration

Characters/Pairings: Tracy/Link Larkin

Word Count: 497

--

Tracy glanced at her shapely reflection in the mirror and decided that right at that moment, she felt incredibly sexy. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders, hairspray free, and framed her face beautifully. The dress she picked, a playful light red, proudly displayed her curves. The makeup she wore was light, simply enhancing the natural beauty she already possessed. She knew, without a doubt, she'd have Link drooling as soon as he saw her.

-

Link watched the content woman next to him and reaffirmed his decision that Tracy was indeed, amazingly sexy. Her hair was disheveled, attempting to frame her round face, but failing as strands stuck out in odd directions. That little red number she wore, beautiful on her, looked far better on the bedroom floor. She had put on just the right amount of lipstick, wonderfully enticing on her, but long gone from when their lips had met in frantic kisses. When she had first walked out of the bedroom, he had to physically control himself from dragging her back in; she was simply gorgeous.

-

Dinner had gone well, but she knew his stare kept traveling lower than her face, attention captured by the teasing display provided by her somewhat low-cut attire. They had the whole restaurant to themselves, a perk of proper timing and a slow night, and could enjoy the privacy it supplied.

She batted her lashes, knowing that she was about to give him the hint he had been waiting for. Giving him a sexy little smile, her eyes turned heated, and she licked her lips slowly to make sure he understood her intention.

-

He was pretty sure dinner was delicious, but he couldn't pay it too much attention as he kept getting momentarily distracted by the cleavage that greeted his view. He wasn't so sure it was a good thing the place was empty either; as every passing minute made it harder and harder to not drag her to the nearest smooth surface and have his way with her.

His restraint almost snapped when she gave him a look. His eyes were almost immediately glued to her tongue as she moistened her lips sensually, and he felt that it was as obvious an invitation as any.

-

She decided, snuggling deeper into his arms, that she glad she had married someone who made her feel so sexy and loved. She quickly added the next upcoming celebration to her mental calendar, already making plans to go out of town with him once more and enjoy some alone time.

-

He decided, giving her neck a soft kiss, that if all his birthdays were going to be so passionate; he'd have to find a way to make it happen more often. He quickly made a mental note to ask her if high school graduation anniversaries counted as something to celebrate.

-

Together, as the sun slowly began its rise in the morning sky, they drifted off to sleep; basking in the warmth of each other.

--

A/N: Man, I'm such a Tracy/Link-fanatic. But, yeah – here's a little future drabble; just 'cause Tracy needs to feel sexy for her man, and Link needs to drool over his woman.


	12. Sickness and in Health

Characters/Pairing: Tracy Turnblad/Link Larkin

Word Count: 643

--

It was probably the most undignified moment in his high school life. He, Link Larkin, was stuck in bed; with the flu. How did it all come to this? How was it that on such a gloriously important day, he was attached to his bed with something so incredibly appalling?

He blamed the rain.

It was that stupid little Baltimore shower that had, quite unexpectedly, ruined his walk a few days ago. No matter what anyone tried to say, he knew it was completely the sole responsibility of nature that he was now a huddled mess in his bed. As another sneeze escaped him, he contemplated calling Tracy again. Surely he'd be okay for their date. The fever wasn't too bad; and he wasn't really all that achy.

He felt a small scratchy feeling tickle his chest, which quickly evolved into monstrous coughs, causing his whole frame to tremble. No, he should leave their date cancelled. He'd feel too guilty if he got her sick; even if it was their six month anniversary.

He whined pathetically in the empty room, silently willing his limbs into motion so he could at least go downstairs and eat. He knew though, even if he managed to get up, he wouldn't make it very far. The medicine his father had given him left him feeling a bit weaker than he already did, and he was worried the fever would cause hallucinations.

There was a soft knock on the door, "Link?"

Oh; wonderful. He was already imagining things.

"Link, honey?" The voice sounded unsure, and for a moment, he allowed himself to remember his mom. He gave a soft groan as the pounding in his head grew stronger. The hallucination, warm fuzzy feelings and all, needed to go away. It wasn't helping him heal faster.

"Hon, I'm coming in," and with that, the door opened. He groaned at the loud squeak that reverberated throughout the room, wincing as it added to the fever-induced headache. His eyes were shut tightly, attempting to block out all light; even the dim hallway light that seeped in when the illusion opened the door.

"G'way," he mumbled, "gotta get better… see Trace…" His words were broken, but he was sure the figment of his imagination got the message. He heard a soft giggle before something was set down on his right table.

"Link," he heard his name whispered, "I'm right here." He felt a soothing hand brush through his sweaty bangs, sweeping them off his forehead.

"I'm afraid he's pretty much useless, Miss Turnblad," he heard his father's voice.

"It's okay," was it really Tracy who was speaking, he wondered. "This is a day we should be together." He heard his father 'hmm' softly before his footsteps walked out of the door, leaving him and his possibly-real mirage alone.

He tried to speak, but found he lacked the strength to do so. Instead, he bleary opened his eyes, looking at the fuzzy vision of what was quickly forming into his beautiful girl.

"…Trace?" he croaked, voice raged from the coughs.

"Hey handsome," she smiled, fingers combing through his disheveled locks, "hungry?"

"You shouldn't be here… you'll get sick." He knew that even though he managed to say that much, he was thrilled to see her. If only he didn't look so horrible.

"Oh, shush Mr. Larkin. Let me take care of you." She gave his sticky brow a tender kiss, and then helped him sit up in the bed. From his higher angle, he could see the soup resting on his table, and his stomach growled meekly.

"Soup?" It seems she gave him some strength, as he was able to speak without sounding like a frog.

"A Turnblad family special at that; happy anniversary, hun. Now, eat up." With that, she picked up the spoon, and proceeded to help him eat as much as he needed.

-

A week later, Link was feeling right as rain. Which, by the way, he decided to forgive after Tracy had stopped by. Though they hadn't been able to go out for their six month anniversary, Tracy had taken good care of him; even though he cringed every time he remembered she had seen him looking so feeble. Currently however, he sat next to her bed, watching her with a slightly bemused smile on his face.

"Don't you dare say a thing, Link Larkin," her voice reached him from beneath a mountain of covers.

"Wouldn't dream of it, darlin'." He got up, giving his girl a soft kiss on her blanket-covered head before leaving her to a combination sneeze-cough attack, and met Mrs. Turnblad in the kitchen. "Now," he cracked his knuckles and gave her a ready smile, "about that soup you were going to show me to make…"

--

A/N: More Trink-fluff... I can't help it! I love them so! But, this one's special… it comes with disease!


	13. Show Time

Characters/Pairing: Maybelle Stubbs + Corny Collins

Word Count: 269

--

She watched as the kids were winding down, finishing the last number on the show. She was just here today to make the first on-air announcement for Negro Day; but the excitement of appearing on TV for the first time still bubbled in her chest.

Maybelle grinned and her eyes sparkled as she eyed the white boy with the too wide smile. He was too cute, she decided. His attire was a periwinkle blue and his tie glittered in silver, sparkling under the stage lights. True, he wasn't a boy – clearly a man – but there was something youthful about the way he carried himself. She also loved the way he danced and sang, showing the kids that surrounded him how it was done.

She briefly wondered what her parents would have thought of him. She could imagine them, her mother a soulful Southern woman laughing without a care in the world; her father, stern during business hours, smacking his thigh as _that crazy cracker_ wowed them with his moves. They would have thought he was precious.

As Corny noticed her watching him from the sidelines, he offered her an even larger grin and winked; telling her to come over to him with a nudge of his head. She smirked in reply, and made her way to his side, standing proudly next to him for the first time in the shows history. The tune finally ended and he turned to her, draping his arm over her broad shoulders. While the kids were applauding, she gave a smile to the camera; and he looked at her and whispered, "show time, babe."

--

A/N: Just because they deserve love, too. I love the friendship they have. Inspired by a conversation with BreAnna.


	14. Apple Pie

Characters/Pairing: Tracy Turnblad/Link Larkin

Word Count: 609

--

He knew that nothing was more American than apple pie. The simple process of picking your apples off the tree, preparing them, and baking them in a flaky shell had the majority of its bystanders waiting with mouth-watering anticipation.

Link hated apple pie.

It wasn't that he didn't find it delicious, because let's face it – a slice of good apple pie will always be filed under 'good eats'. The problem he had with America's favorite pastry was the association it held with his mother. She loved baking; and apple pie was one of her favorites. He'd help her as best as he could, too. She'd always ask him to pick the biggest, shiniest apples; making sure he sampled at least one, he'd then helped her wash them. Apple pie, for the longest time, had been his favorite treat.

When she had died, he found it difficult to swallow any piece that was ever offered. No apple pie could compare to hers. Either the flavor wasn't complete, or the texture was off. There was always something wrong. Soon after, he simply swore off apple pie all together; deciding that it was far simpler to hate it then try and eat someone else's.

So when Tracy, oblivious to his hatred for the food, innocently bought him a slice of her first homemade apple pie, Link wasn't sure what to do. On one hand, he wanted to be supportive of her, and had always sampled her food before; but on the other hand, it was something he knew he wouldn't like… and he didn't want to hurt her feelings by refusing to at least try it. He sat in the Turnblad living room, surrounded by the family themselves as they watched him silently wage an inner war.

"It's okay if you don't want it," Tracy started; ready to return the apparently offensive food to the kitchen, when Link's hand on her arm stopped her.

"No, no – I'll have some. Sorry, I was thinking about the last time I had good apple pie." He offered her as bright a smile as he could and took the plate, grasping the spoon in his other hand. It looked really good, he had to admit. The pie seemed to be covered in caramel, and had a scoop of vanilla ice cream half melting on the side. Feeling all eyes on him, he took a cautious amount of ice cream, making sure to get some of the sticky topping, and added a bit of pie to complete a full spoonful. Knowing that the Turnblad's were all expecting his critique, he placed the desert in his mouth quickly, wanting to get it over with.

His eyes widened as he absorbed all the new flavors. The pie was still warm, apples juicy and bursting with a cinnamon flavor. The ice cream added a refreshing burst of vanilla, and the caramel completed the dish perfectly. He took a moment to savor the taste, mind drifting to his mother for a brief instant before it returned to the present. Finishing that bite, he looked at Tracy, who still waited for his response.

"Darlin', it's perfect," he grinned, watching her brighten immediately. Mrs. Turnblad, he noticed out of the corner of his eye, smiled happily at her husband who nodded approvingly.

Tracy smiled at him, "of course! What were you expecting?" She laughed, going to the kitchen to retrieve her own slice. He watched her go, taking another spoonful of the tasty concoction.

It was warm but cold, gooey and simply lip-smacking. He found that he could make one of what he hoped to be many corrections involving Tracy.

Link loved apple pie.

--

A/N: Perkins, if you have one, has this scrumptiousness. I actually do hate apple pie, but I will make an exception only for this.

Oh, and I'm totally on a (fluffy) Trink-fix, so I may end up writing a lot more of them than others. I think it's no secret that they're my favorite…

Lastly, I'm most defiantly cheating… my beta is off bein' inspired (and leaving me incredibly jealous) so I'm posting it without her assessment…

I -heart- you so, molesta-fruitboy! (You know who you are.) Thanks for lookin' over this one, and the next one!


	15. Gone Over Her

Characters/Pairing: Link Larkin/Tracy Turnblad + OC

Word Count: 866

--

The sun was hot, raising the temperature inside of the metal car to an almost sweltering degree. His younger cousin Mikey, who was visiting for the weekend, sat in the passenger seat next to him; rambling on about all the sweet chicks he had hooked up with, and how he was sure to beat Link as the most popular guy in town. Link however, as much as he enjoyed spending time with his cousin, was somewhat disappointed. He had wanted to spend his first weekend of summer with Trace, but it seemed that he'd be stuck babysitting instead.

"Hey Link," he heard his cousin attempt to grab his attention, and Link gave him a glance in acknowledgement. He was driving back from the train station and they still had a while to go.

"Yeah Mikey, what's up? He turned a corner, being sure to watch out for pedestrian traffic. He may be young, but he wasn't stupid enough to want to actually kill someone.

"I heard you hooked up with this real choice babe." Link laughed, and even though he wasn't looking at him, he knew Mikey was grinning.

"Yeah, she's real hip," he smiled and agreed, thoughts drifting back to Tracy again. She was all sorts of sweet, just the best girl he could ever hope to be with.

"Is she hot?" Mikey asked, watching Link as he would any idol. Link stopped at a light, and turned to face him.

"She's real cool. I'm gone over her." He felt no shame in admitting it to his cousin, and almost laughed at the expression he received for that comment.

"As in, you're going steady with her – _really_ going steady?" His cousin looked appalled; and at this, Link did laugh.

"I'm all hers," was his reply, giving the car gas when the light turned green. Mikey looked at him skeptically, unsure what to make of the change that had affected his cousin. He watched him as they drove in silence, noticing the peaceful smile resting on Link's features.

"Will I get to meet her?" He suddenly felt the need to speak properly, feeling a bit like Link had grown too much for him to compete with. Link glanced at him for a moment before returning his eyes to the road, and he noticed a slight frown replaced that smile.

"Maybe," was his simple reply.

"Why maybe?" What could be so good about this girl that Link was hesitant to let him meet her? It's not like he was planning on jumping her bones or anything. He was just… curious. There was another light and Link stopped, sighing as he rubbed the back of his neck. He stared straight ahead as he spoke.

"Mikey, I know you. You're just like I was." He turned to look at him, and Mikey found that he wished he was still looking at the road. His intense gaze made him shift uncomfortably in his seat, and he felt like he was four again. "If, and only if, I decide that you're ready to meet a _real_ woman – you remember this; she gets nothing but respect. If you even look at her funny, I swear I'll pound you." His blue eyes glinted a warning, and Mikey knew that even though Link was not a violent person, he would find a way to live up to his words. Never had he witnessed Link so protective of a girl.

He laughed apprehensively, before managing a shaky smile and squeaking, "Far out." The light had turned green but Link kept his gaze steady, digesting his cousin's response before nodding and turning back to the road. As Mikey felt the car lurch forward, he couldn't help but wonder; who the heck was this girl, and what had she done to Link Larkin?

-

Meeting Tracy Turnblad was an entirely new experience for Mikey. She was the complete opposite of anyone Link had ever dated, and when he observed them together, he could see why his cousin was so taken by her. At first, he was unsure he even wanted to meet her after the warning he had received in the car, but it seemed Link believed him ready; and the next day, he was taken to the Turnblad residence for dinner to meet the family.

He had been prepared to feel like an outcast, simply a spectator to the bonds that had been formed while he and his cousin had been separated; but Trace, as Link called her, and her family had welcomed him before he was even introduced.

The food was delicious, the talk was fun, and the dancing was amazing; the Turnblads, he found, were some of the greatest people he had ever met. When it was time to finally bid the family good night, hugs were shared and both he and his cousin had wide smiles on their faces.

When he was on the train back home, after his weekend was over, he realized something profound.

Though he knew he would never come between Link and his girl, that summer he would return home with a new bounce to his step, and a small crush on the girl who had stolen his cousin's heart.

--

A/N: I think eventually, Tracy gets under everyone's skin – in a good way, of course.

Oh, and Link is so totally over-protective of his baby doll.


	16. Colors

Characters/Pairing: Link Larkin

Word Count: 222

--

Being that his memory had only just begun allowing him the feeling of recollection, he knew that what he was experiencing now was something familiar. He was dreaming again. It was a mix of flamboyant gold's and daring browns, with an angry red undertone. Surrounded by this landscape of colors left him with a foul sense of self, and his stomach churned, resolving to feel uncomfortably nervous. Normally his dreams consisted of vivid greens, soothing blues, and lush purples. They bathed him in a consistently lavish array of elegance and class. What he faced now was a much fiercer pallet, and the reflection on the emotions it caused didn't help his unsettled stomach.

Right when he felt that the view was becoming too overbearing for his taste, a sudden burst of warm yellow cut through his unpleasant surroundings. It blended cheerfully with a bashful pink, and a dazzling orange; slowly expanding until it was all he could see. He found this set of colors to be far more inviting, and he savored them. His stomach calmed, relieving him of that distressing pressure he had felt.

He knew, even if he didn't remember when he woke up, that these colors would mean something important in the future.

Finally feeling at peace with his psyche, baby Lincoln continued to slumber undisturbed into the night.

--

A/N: I want to pinch his cheeks. Anyhow, yeah – Link learns at a very young age how to associate colors with feelings. You may interpret it as you wish… but I will tell you this; no, he's not hungry. –looks pointedly at DewRu-


	17. The End Result

Characters/Pairing: Tracy Turnblad/Link Larkin

Word Count: 1000

--

He sat up straight on the couch, fidgeting with his neck tie before bringing his nervous hands back to his side. Five years. He swallowed thickly as he gave Mr. Turnblad a brief glance; but the other man was flipping through a newspaper, not offering any form of support for the huge step he was about to take.

Two months ago, he had asked the elder Turnblads if he could have Tracy's hand in marriage; and after a huge hug from Edna, and a firm handshake from Wilbur, he had received the permission he sought. Now, ring in his pocket, it was time to do his official proposal. He had run through what he'd say with Penny, ignoring Seaweed's jabs of 'stop proposing to my wife – she's mine!' He had asked Edna if she thought he should dress casually, or more formal since it was an important night; and she had told him to just remain himself, Tracy would say yes even if he asked her dressed in rags. He had practiced in front of the mirror for days, keeping his expression calm and confident, and his voice strong and steady. He was prepared, he had felt.

At least, that was until he sat here now, waiting for her to finish getting ready. His sweaty palms kept bunching up his slacks while he listened to Edna bustle about in the kitchen. There was a brief moment in silence before she came into the living room, handing a glass of water to Link.

"Calm your nerves, dear; it'll be fine." She gave him a comfortable smile, and then disappeared back into the kitchen. He took a massive swallow of water, concentrating on the cooling sensation it provided instead of the flittering in his stomach. The silence stretched on, and he knew that if he listened carefully enough, he could hear Tracy humming in her room as she applied whatever finishing touches she felt she needed. At some point between Edna returning to the kitchen, and him taking another needed gulp of water, Wilbur had left the room – leaving him to dwell on his thoughts in solitude.

What if she said no? What if she thought it was still too soon; or worse yet – too late? What if the ring didn't fit? What if all his worrying had caused him to perspire too much and he now smelled awful? Was his hair still okay? He knew he had run a shaky hand through it earlier…

Before he could manage any other nerve-wracking thoughts, his breath caught as he heard her door open and her steady steps begin to descend down the stairs. He stood and ran trembling fingers through his – he was sure now – destroyed hair as he waited until she made an appearance. Taking a supporting deep breath, he tried his best to not appear as nervous as he felt on the inside. Tonight was five years in the making, and after all his practice, it had to be perfect.

When she finally came into view his breath hitched in his throat and his hands balled into tense fists at his side. She had always been beautiful, easily capturing his attention – and keeping it – no matter what she wore. But tonight, she was simply stunning. Her hair hung in loose curls, framing her face delicately with a few rogue wisps brushing her cheeks. The dress she wore, a deep forest green, hugged her shapely body beautifully; and she looked so composed and ready that he suddenly felt his heart leap up into his throat.

She smiled at him and stood on her toes to give him a brief kiss on the lips, "hi hun." Brain finally kicking into some kind of working order, he shoved his hand into his pocket, taking out the small box and presenting it to her as he responded with the first thing that came to mind.

"Marry me," he blurted; eyes wide and heart beating wildly. Somewhere in the distance, he thought he heard the sound of giggling and a deep chuckle; but he was focused solely on her widening eyes and that adorable mouth opening in a surprised 'oh!' as she looked at the small black box in his hands.

He mentally kicked himself. He had spent so long preparing for today. They were supposed to have dinner, and then he was supposed to ask her while they were at a secluded park he had scouted. He had found the perfect place to do it, too; and at his intended time of night, they would have stopped by a lake with the moon reflecting beautifully across its surface. He would have gotten down on one knee, risking grass stains on his new pants, and proposed to her as a suitable gentleman should.

Instead, due to his stupid nerves, it just slipped out of his mouth. It wasn't even the proper mood, let alone the proper location; and he was sure he had just ruined any chance of her saying yes. How in the world could he expect her to think he was ready for marriage when he couldn't even propose correctly?

He felt the small box lift from his hand and his eyes snapped to her face, watching her expression. Aside from her initial surprised reaction, she had yet to say anything; and he was starting to wonder if she was going to chuck the box at his head. She opened it slowly, staring at the delicate ring, and blinked once more as comprehension flooded her senses.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, eyes locking with anxious blue, "yes; of course!" Link was silent a moment before her reply connected, and then he pulled her into a tight hug against him, hearing an excited squeal from somewhere in the next room. Feeling her arms wrap around him and her smile against his neck, he noticed her parents peeking in through the kitchen window, and gave them a large grin.

After all, it was the end result that mattered.

--

A/N: He's so cute when he's nervous.


	18. The Middle

Characters/Pairing: Amber Von Tussle

Word Count: 522

--

Lifting a small bag, Amber paused as she took in her surroundings. It was nothing compared to what she was used to. Her room had been large, far more expansive than anything she would ever need. It had been decorated in rich fabrics, lush textures, and expensive accessories.

Her new residence, this small apartment, wasn't even a mere shadow of what had previously been called home. It didn't even have a bedroom really, just a small kitchen – if it could be called that – tucked into the corner with a folding table and single chair. There was a bathroom on the opposite side of the kitchen; the entire dwelling was small, but it gave her the privacy she sought. There was room for a bed at least, and the previous owners had left a small dresser that she could use to tuck what meager clothing she had brought with her.

Closing the door behind her and stepping carefully around the boxes that littered the floor, she made her way to the table and set down the final bag, giving her new surroundings another once over. She would have to find a bed, do the laundry, and clean everything. The bathtub probably needed a good scrubbing, and she hoped the state of the fridge wouldn't be too bad. Tucking a stray blonde strand behind her ear, she opened the small bag she had set on the table and took out the first item to put up in her new home. She allowed herself a small smile as she examined the tiny music box, something that had been given to her by her father.

Setting it on the table, she searched for the crate of cleaning supplies she had been given, and quickly pulled out a rag. She ran it under the warm water from the sink, rinsing it thoroughly so she could have just the right amount of moisture, then walked back to the dresser. Wiping down whatever surface she could reach, she stepped back to admire her first cleaning job.

It wasn't too bad. The layers of dust had lifted easily and the color of the old wood glistened in the places where the varnish still remained. She went back to the table and set down the rag, picking up the small trinket. Opening it and humming softly as the soft lullaby filled the quiet room, she placed the music box on the dresser – its new home.

She turned once more to analyze the room before her. She had work in the morning, so as long as she was able to empty the few parcels that held her clothes, she'd be able to set aside a space to sleep on later. Taking a deep breath, she got to work in doing what organizing she could before it got too late.

She had long ago decided that she would try her best and not listen to what others said about her. She was going to simply be herself, even if it wasn't good enough for someone else.

It would take some time, she knew – but everything would be just fine; everything would be alright.

--

A/N: Every time I think of Amber, I remember the song "The Middle" from Jimmy Eat World. So, this is an ode to both of them; I've taken it as her 'theme song' in a way. It's also a bit – well, a total hint really – of foreshadowing.

Completely unbeta'd. Feel free to point out any mistakes.


	19. Beat the Rain

Characters/Pairing: Tracy Turnblad/Link Larkin

Word Count: 965

--

He sat on the window sill, silent as he gazed out at the scenery below him. In his hands he held a pad and a soft pencil. He loosely sketched the landscape, taking care to add shadows to the hedges and reflection off the cars. It was just a quick outline really, something to keep his fingers nimble – but he wanted to make sure it looked as close to his mind's eye as possible. Hearing his door open, he paused to look to the doorway, surprised at the unexpected guest.

"Trace…" He quickly covered up the sketch, placing the pad out of her view. She quirked an eyebrow as she walked towards the center of the room, glancing around as she did so.

"Secret hobby?" she teased and he stood to greet her, feeling silly for his reaction. He met her half way and gave her a soft kiss, letting his lips linger.

"Sorry," he began, rubbing an apologetic circle on the small of her back, "I wasn't expecting you…" Her eyes softened and she took in his tired smile and his unkempt hair.

"Did you forget that you asked me to accompany you today?" She brushed a hand through his drooping locks, attempting to straighten them into something presentable.

"Oh," he looked surprised, then ashamed, "I did... Sorry, Trace – my mind has been elsewhere." He walked over to his bed and sat down, bending to find his shoes which had been tossed under his bed.

She smiled at him, "if we hurry we'll make it before the rains." He nodded and began to tie his shoes, making sure that the laces were even and pristine. He couldn't believe he had forgotten; today was the day he was going to introduce Tracy to his mother…

"I'll be right back," he stood and walked to the hall, giving her a small smile as he passed. Entering the bathroom, he turned on the light, closing the door behind him. He glanced at his reflection and sighed. This was always the hardest week out of the year for him. He ran his face over his scruffy chin and frowned. How long had it been since he had last shaved? Reminding himself that both Tracy and his mother were waiting, he quickly made himself presentable, making sure to rid himself of the rough stubble that had formed. He washed his face, then fixed his hair and looked in the mirror once more.

Better.

Leaving the bathroom, he walked back into his room to see Tracy gazing out the same window he had only moments before. She turned to look at him; he could tell she hadn't looked inside the pad that was within her reach, but she was terribly curious.

"I never told you, did I?" He smiled as he walked towards his dresser. He opened the third drawer and his fingers hovered over much smaller pad, debating, before finally pulling it out.

"How long have you been drawing?" She replied, walking to stand next to him.

"I used to draw with mother," he answered, handing her the pad. "I was going to show you eventually, but I got a bit embarrassed…" His voice drifted as he turned to observe the opposite wall as she flipped open the book and her eyes widened. The first drawing was a meticulous depiction of a daisy. Each petal carefully drawn and shaded, every leaf detailed with a few drops of dew kissing the foliage. The next picture was of a young woman sitting alone on a park bench, holding what seemed to be a wilted bouquet of lilies. After that, a quick sketch of a young boy, missing a front tooth, and smiling happily as he held what was most likely a toy boat. As she flipped through each page, each picture – whether detailed or sketched – was amazingly done. She felt almost ashamed for never realizing that Link had such a wonderful gift.

They stood in silence. One, baring a secret to his most special person; the other, falling more in love with each drawing she saw until she stopped, gasping. There was a drawing of her there – her eyes shut as if she were sleeping and blades of grass kissing her cheeks. She looked at Link then, seeing that he was gazing at her intently, waiting for her opinion.

"You're amazing," she whispered, smile lighting her face. He gave her a small laugh as he took the small book from her, giving her hands a small squeeze.

"Of course," he replied with a small smirk, putting the book away. "I wouldn't be Link Larkin if that weren't the case." She gave him a tight hug, smiling when he wrapped his arms around her in reply.

"Love you," she whispered, kissing the underside of his chin. He smiled and gave her another squeeze before releasing her, feeling a bit like his normal self.

"Love you," he answered, taking her hand. "Now let's see if we can beat the rain – mother has got to be bored out there." Tracy smiled as he led her downstairs, both of them bidding goodbye to his father. The drive was filled with a comfortable silence, each with their own thoughts to accompany them. Once they reached their location, they parked; and Link silently led her to where his mother waited. Stopping in front of a simple headstone with the engraved words they sought, Link smiled at the fresh flowers that sat there. His dad must have gone early in the morning.

He turned to Tracy, and then looked back to the grave, "happy birthday mom; I have someone I'd like you to meet. This is my girlfriend, Tracy Turnblad." Tracy curtsied politely, before smiling beautifully at the stone placement.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Larkin."

--

A/N: And Tracy finally gets to meet his mom.


	20. Brothers in Arms

Characters/Pairing: Penny Pingleton/Seaweed Stubbs + Tracy Turnblad/Link Larkin

Word Count: 587

--

"So… shin splint, huh?" Link asked, looking at the darker boy as he lay in bed. Seaweed glowered, annoyed at his current position.

"Yeah," he grumbled, staring resolutely at the wall.

"Don't glare so hard at the wall – it's not at fault for your predicament!" Link laughed, walking to stand beside the bed. Penny and Tracy trailed into the room after him, the taller of the two walking to sit at the empty chair on the other side of the bed.

"He can't help it," she replied as Seaweed refused to talk, "his can't turn his neck either."

"Just pretend I'm an invalid!" He cried, throwing up his hands in frustration.

Link grinned, "Well now, you've still got control of your hands. There's something positive–ouch!" His teasing remark was cut short by Tracy's sharp nails, which twisted into the skin of his arm.

"Link, don't tease him," she stated calmly, watching him out of the corner of her eye. He gave her a mock pout, before smiling as she ran her fingers over the sore spot in apology.

"Seaweed," Penny scolded as she took his hand in hers, palming the calloused skin of his fingers, "stop being such a baby." She leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek, and then stood and walked to Tracy. "We're going to go get a few things at the corner store – then we'll be back. Link will keep you company," she informed the bed-ridden boy, both girls smiling at their respective opposites.

As they walked out the room, Link paused, waiting for the door to click behind them before walking to the seat Penny had just vacated. He sat down and gave the other boy another once-over, before grinning.

"You told Penny you fell down the stairs, didn't you?" He asked, feeling a sense of pride towards his friend. Seaweed looked at him, silent for a moment, and then lifted his fist to show Link the slightly bruised knuckles.

"She'd kill me if she knew," he started, grinning a bit, "but yeah – that guy got me good, but I got him square in the nose. Heard it break." Link nodded, approving. He stretched out on the seat, slouching a bit to get comfortable, before he gave Seaweed a sly look.

"Next time, though – let me know," he said, cracking his knuckles fiercely. Seaweed laughed at that, giving Link a sideways glance.

"With that skinny frame, what could you do?" He asked through a chuckle, and Link paused before answering.

"Well… that doesn't matter – I'd figure it out as we went," he finished, resolution firmly placed within his words.

Seaweed gave him a smart grin before adding, "Tracy would kill me."

"Not if she knew it was to protect Penny's honor," Link reminded him, wiggling his toes inside of his shoes.

"No," Seaweed agreed, then shifted as best he could to catch Link's gaze, "then she'd join in." Both boys laughed before Link shook his head, cool grin on his lips.

"Once you involve a Turnblad woman, it's all over." They grinned at each other, falling into a comfortable silence that stretched for a few moments. Then Seaweed cleared his throat, body shifted back so that his gaze was back to the wall.

"Thanks," he said softly, "for saying you have my back." Link opened his mouth to reply before the other boy continued, "Remember – I've got yours, too."

Link felt his grin widen before he gave Seaweed's shoulder a careful squeeze, "wouldn't have it any other way, man."

--

A/N: For DewRu… who has ouchies today.


	21. Carol of the Bells

**Characters/Pairing:** Tracy Turnblad/Link Larkin + Edna/Wilbur Turnblad + Mr. Bradley Charles Larkin

**A/N:** This is a special holiday edition – so it'll be longer than my word limit. Happy Holidays!

**Word Count: **3,191

-- **Carol of the Bells** --

Every Christmas had always been a wonderful memory for Tracy. There was joy and laughter, warm delicious food, and family all around. This Christmas was going to be different; and Tracy found that she couldn't wait.

On the other hand, for Link, every Christmas since his mother had died had been a struggle. Where there was once happy songs and festive food, there was the garbled radio broadcasting tired tunes and frozen dinners. Presents were opened, each trying to keep the mood light and cheery; but eventually the façade would drop and Mr. Larkin would need a drink. This Christmas was going to be different; and Link found that he was absolutely terrified.

This year, the Larkins would be joining the Turnblads for Christmas. His father had taken some convincing, but since Link had never introduced him to a girl before, and his son seemed so taken with her; he had conceded and agreed to join them. He had met Tracy earlier, and she seemed to be a darling little girl, so meeting with her family could be rather enjoyable.

--

In preparation of the grand event, Tracy and Link had been given the important task of finding the ideal Christmas tree. They walked, hand-in-hand, looking at all the trees available for their selection. There was a perfect one out there, Tracy had told him adamantly, and they just had to find it. He already knew the perfect one, though. It was one she kept walking them back to, sizing out of the corner of her eye, then continuing the journey around the lot only to circle back to that same tree.

It was time, he figured, to help her decide. On one of the many circling-around-the-tree excursions, he deftly placed an object on one of the branches, waiting for her to circle around again. He knew she had seen it when he heard a small gasp escape her petite frame, and she looked at him with questioning eyes.

He paused to examine the item, seeming to contemplate its existence as she gingerly walked up and placed mitten-clad fingers over it. Her hand traced over the white gold chain, following the dangling path down until it rested on a delicate harp charm that shown brilliantly among the green bristles of the tree. She felt warm arms wrap around her middle and smiled.

"I knew it," she whispered as she fingered the chain once more, "this _is_ the perfect tree."

--

Wilbur and Link set about to straightening the tree in the Turnblad living room. Link held the base steady and Wilbur shifted the tree, trying to center it in the stand. Tracy watched from her place on the couch as she sorted through decorations; and smiled when her mother placed a bowl of warm water and fresh towels on the coffee table.

"When you boys have set it up, here's something to clean off all that tree sap," she said as she sat down next to Tracy, untangling some ribbon that they planned to use as garland. "There's also some hot chocolate in the kitchen."

"Thanks hun," Wilbur paused as the younger boy held the tree firmly, wiping sweat off his brow.

"Thanks Mrs. Turnblad," Link's voice drifted from somewhere below the tree, his face lost to the many branches that were shedding pine needles on his black sweater. The girls shared a smile before turning back to untangling the decorations, each working in peace as the boys finally got the tree in place.

Wilbur clapped loudly, smiling as he finally got a good look at the tree. He sized it silently as Link stood up off his knees, shaking some of the pine needles out of his hair.

"Looks good, kids! You did well!" Wilbur walked to the table and placed a towel in the bowl, wrung out some of the excess water, and handed it to Link. Link gave him a grateful smile before cleaning the sap off his hands, trying to remove the sticky substance before it started to collect dirt and debris.

A quiet giggle caught his attention and he looked at Tracy, who gave him a quirky grin before pointing to his head, "you have needles in your hair, and some sap on your face." His expression scrunched in distaste as he rubbed the towel over his face, hoping to remove the offending substance. Tracy stood and walked towards him, taking the towel from his hands. He watched as she walked back to the bowl, dipped and wrung it again, and then walked back to him to gently rub whatever blotches she could see off his face. Wilbur walked off to the kitchen to check on his hot chocolate and Edna smiled as she focused on a particularly difficult tangle in the ribbon.

"By the way Tracy," she began, distracted as she pulled a section free of the knot, "that's a lovely necklace you're wearing." Tracy smiled as her free hand reached up to palm the beautiful charm. Link watched her, grinning as she focused on gently cleaning his cheek while keeping the playful banter with her mother.

"You think so?" She replied, cleaning off the last of the sap on Link's face. She gave the cheek she had just cleaned a chaste kiss before turning to look at her mother, "I think so, too. Mr. Larkin gave it to me."

"Did he now?" Edna gave Link a small smile before turning to Tracy, appearing non-chalet. "It seems a bit small to me."

"Mother!" Tracy stared, surprised while Link laughed beside her.

"Mrs. Turnblad," he chuckled, "you ruined the surprise!" Her smile turned rather bashful but she giggled as she stood.

"I couldn't help it! Hurry and show her!" She urged as she shifted from one foot to the other.

"Show me what?" Tracy questioned, watching the two of them. Link pulled a small parcel of wrapped tissue paper out of his pocket, giving her a quick grin.

"One to keep with you, and one to be the beginning of the beautiful thing, doll." He handed her the gift and she quickly opened it, finding a much bigger and far more intricate harp resting in the paper. She smiled beautifully as she gave him a big hug.

"Oh, Link – it's beautiful; the perfect first ornament for the tree!" He returned the hug, careful not to get too enthusiastic since her mother was still watching them, but relishing the feel of her in his arms. Edna squealed and Wilbur walked into the living room from the kitchen, a tray with mugs full of hot chocolate balancing carefully in his hands.

"Now then, before we decorate the rest of the tree" he gave Link a meaningful glance as he sat down the tray and both he and Edna sat on the couch, "let's have some cocoa!" Link gave Tracy a final squeeze before he let her go and watched her gently place the ornament on the tree, smiling as it swung slowly before settling in its final position. They both walked towards the coffee table, joining her parents in sharing stories as they each drank from their mugs; the beautiful harp, placed lovingly on the branches of the perfect tree, shone warmly in the comfortable evening lights.

--

The month of December seemed to drag a bit longer than usual, Link felt. Perhaps that most of his distractions had been centered towards the beginning of the month, when he had assisted the Turnblad's with their Christmas tree and had gifted Tracy with a few early presents, had something to do with the slow feeling the rest of the month had taken. As it was Christmas Eve couldn't seem to get there any faster, and when the day finally arrived, Link felt that silent terror that had been steadily building up over the past few months intensify. He stood now in his bathroom mirror, fixing his hair for the umpteenth time.

It wasn't that he was worried about his father and the Turnblads mixing well, it was more the extreme change of routine for a day that had always been slightly melancholy. He wasn't sure if both he and his father would be able to remain in good spirits, and he knew he'd feel horrible if he had to see Tracy with a crestfallen expression during the time of year that seemed to be made for her.

But it was always so hard. On days when family should be together and smiles should be shared, there was always this emptiness he would feel.

He supposed the biggest reason was that he never got to say goodbye.

Even so, he and his father would be joining the Turnblads for dinner in less than an hour; and darn it – they were going to have a good time…

He gazed at his expression once more and swallowed thickly.

…right?

--

The drive to the Turnblad home started off relatively silent, each man in their own thoughts. Finally feeling uncomfortable, Link cleared his throat.

"Dad, I want to ask you something…" His voice drifted off, unsure if he really wanted to have this conversation when they were already on their way.

"Have at it," his father replied distractedly, eyes focused on the road. Link turned to study him, once black hair speckled with strands of gray and dark eyes calculating whatever thoughts that ran through his head.

"Is this okay? I mean, I know it's just dinner – but…" He shifted to look back outside the window, feeling uncomfortable again.

"It's not just dinner," his father replied quickly, "it's Christmas Eve dinner; with your lady and her family."

"Exactly," Link looked back to his father, "it's… different." He shifted in his seat, biting on his lower lip. The older man glanced at him, then sighed and turned off the road, parking the car in an empty spot.

"Link," his father began, turning to face him, "what are you really trying to say, here? Do you not want to go…?"

"No, no! I want to go! I want to eat with Tracy and her parents… I really like them; it's just… you…" He drifted again, watching his father's face for his reaction.

"Me? When have I ever given you the impression that I had a problem with this?" His voice was soft as he watched his son carefully, trying to decipher what it was that was really bothering him.

"It's not that, dad…" Link looked away again; the intensity in his father's gaze causing him to feel somewhat childish. "I know it's different… I mean, it's the first time we'll be doing something outside the norm since mom died…"

"This is bad?" The question was followed by a gentle hand resting on his shoulder, and Link laughed nervously.

"No! It's just, I'm not used to it, so…" He realized the slip as soon as he said it, and he felt his eyes grow wide as his own words seemed to slap him in the face.

"Ah," his father hummed, "so this is about you. You're not used to it, and you're afraid of the change." Link absently chewed on his lip. Well, he couldn't really deny it now…

"I'm not afraid…" he tried weakly, but looked up in surprise as his father chuckled warmly.

"Link, it's been a long time since mom died," his father started, giving him a warm smile. "All we've done for the following holiday's is eat a horrible dinner, and then I go off and drink. I hardly think that's a tradition to be proud of."

"It's not really that," he interjected, feeling a bit too exposed for his liking.

"Then is it your lovely lady?" The question was met by silence, and Link felt as if his thoughts were running a mile a minute.

"Dad, I know I really like her. I like being with her and seeing her happy," he felt a bit awkward having this conversation as he had never really brought up girls with his father before; but he supposed it was true what they said… Better late, than never…

"So…?" his father edged him on, waiting.

"Well," he swallowed again, "I don't know."

"Question," his father sat back into the chair, resting his head against the seat. "Does she know what the harp means? I'm guessing you remember the story mom used to tell you, since you chose that particular symbol…"

"Dad, it's not like I proposed or anything!" He saw his father roll his eyes, and quickly added, "And before you start – I'm not pouting."

"Of course not, and no – you didn't propose. But it's a symbol of love either way. And if I recall, you bought it after much thought; so surely you knew what you were doing." Link sighed, feeling out of character.

"I think you know me too well, dad." He turned to watch a couple hurry down the street, bags of food in their hands. "I feel like I can't act cool when I'm around you." He heard his father's deep, throaty laugh reverberate inside the car.

"I think all that celebrity has gone to your head," his father smiled, large hand reaching over to shuffle Link's hair.

"Dad," Link dodged quickly, watching his father with weary eyes, "are you crazy?! Do you know how long it took me to get it this way?" His father snorted in amusement, ignoring his son's dramatic display.

"Fine, fine – I won't touch your precious hair; but are you ready to continue? Or shall we sit and have more touching father-son bonding? As wonderful as it is, I am getting hungry…" Link sighed, hot breath puffing out onto the window. He remained silent for a moment longer, before rubbing a cold hand on the back of his neck.

"…I love her, dad…" he admitted quietly. His father smiled softly, even though Link wasn't watching.

"I got that impression," the older man replied, just as gently.

"...and it scares me. Because it's different, not what I'm used to… and…" Link felt himself become overwhelmed with that fear that had been troubling him, and swallowed thickly as he finally realized what it truly was.

"…and?" His father urged, trying to remain supportive for his son.

"…and I'm afraid she'll leave me – and I as much as I don't want that; I'm afraid that if she does – I won't get to say goodbye…" Having admitted it out loud, he felt incredibly immature and briefly wondered that if he jumped out the car and started running, he could get hit by something. Of course, instead of laughing or chiding him, his father just pulled him into a tight hug, surprising Link out of his demeaning thoughts.

"Lincoln," his deep voice rumbled in the younger man's ear, "I'm sorry that you never got to say goodbye to mom. I'm sorry that you were so little when she died, and that you have so few memories. I'm sorry that for all this time, you've been carrying around this fear; and I'm sorry that I failed you in that I never noticed. Tracy is a wonderful girl, and to have someone like that in your life is a great thing." He pulled away so he could watch his son fully. "I know that this kind of change is scary; before Tracy girls where just girls – and even though you had girlfriends, you didn't have _the_ girlfriend. But you do now, and judging by the way she looked at you when I met her last, she doesn't have any plans on going anywhere."

"But-"

"Don't worry about what hasn't happened. You're both young and, dare I sound like a cheesy romance novel, in love. Don't let your fears stop you from giving her your all. Life is too short, son – and you may end up with too many things to regret." Link felt his heart thump soundly at his father's last words, and he nodded, understanding what they implied. He sat back in his seat, sighing as he did so and he heard his father shift back into his.

"Man, that was so un-cool," he whined half-heartedly, feeling better after the conversation. His father started the car, turning onto the road after checking if the coast was clear.

"She does know that you're really a nerd, right?" He heard his father joke, and turned to glare at him.

"Hey," he punched him lightly in the arm, "that's unfair! The one time I have a minor break-down in front of you; and I suddenly lose all my cool points?" His father snorted again.

"Kid, you never had them," he continued down the road, joking playfully with the other in the car for the rest of the drive. And as Link was mocked and teased, he noticed that the emptiness that had plagued his heart for so long felt a little less hollow, leaving him feeling a bit warmer during the cold winter night.

--

Dinner had gone well, the two families chatting merrily over ham and turkey as they shared funny stories and warm memories. After eating some of Mama Turnblad's special Christmas cake, the adults left to go talk in the living room as the two teens cleaned the table, chatting quietly amongst themselves.

"Thank you for coming, Link; I hope you and your dad had a good time…" Tracy spoke softly, a content glow lighting up her face. Link gave her a cheery grin.

"I'm glad we came, doll – you and your family are always great to spend time with." Now wasn't the time for her to know about his turmoil in the car, which could wait for another time… at a much later date. Tracy placed the last of the dishes in the sink, turning to walk up to him with a smile. She gave him a daring peck on the lips, quick in case one of the parents should walk in.

"I have your gift here, but I'd rather give it to you tomorrow… do you mind?" She watched him with large eyes, and he was almost tempted to kiss her again and hold her closer than what the parents next door would approve of.

"You didn't have to get me anything, but since you did – I suppose I can wait until tomorrow," he joked, adding his infamous wink. She smiled brightly at him, reaching out to grab his hand and give it a warm squeeze.

"I'm so excited; our first Christmas together!" He smiled and reached out to run his free hand through her hair.

"Yeah; and I'm sure it's not going to be our last," he told her, firm in his words. She grinned then, pressing another quick kiss against his lips.

"Oh, no Larkin; you're stuck with me, now." One hand reached up to caress the charm that dangled on her necklace, eyes locking with his playfully.

"Sounds good to me," he replied, intertwining their fingers. He decided that tomorrow, after he presented his gift; he would tell her he loved her.

And perhaps one day, when the time was right and they were both ready, he would tell her that he never wanted to say goodbye.

--

A/N: Man, were those bells ever ringing! Anyhow, Happy Holidays!


	22. The Truth About Mother

Characters/Pairing: Mr. and Mrs. Von Tussle & Amber

Word Count: 324

--

"Alright little Bee, I'm going to work. Be good for mommy, okay?" His eyes twinkled warmly as Amber did a little turn for him, and then curtsied.

"Okay Daddy. Be good to your 'ployees, okay?" She replied in all her young wisdom. He chucked at that, giving her a slight smile, and then turned to look at his wife.

"Take care," he kissed her on the cheek, and her tight smile was her answer as he stepped out of the house. She shut the door behind him, waiting a few moments to listen to his footsteps fade, and then turned to face her daughter.

"Amberly, we need to work on your routine for the pageant coming up. Mother will be there and you need to look your best." She began walking to the living room, where there record player sat and waited. Amber followed her, almost jogging to keep up with Velma's longer strides.

"Mommy–" she began, eyes wide as she followed her mother from room to room.

"Mother," Velma corrected quickly, sending a small frown in her direction.

"I'm sorry; mother… what is grandma like?" Velma stopped walking, turning to face the young girl who almost ran into her legs.

"She's very sweet, and kind. Always has a warm smile on her face, and is willing to greet anyone with an open heart." Amber smiled, thoughts of a caring grandmother filling her mind. Then, Velma continued with, "that is unless it's me. She absolutely loathes me, and reminds me – quite frequently – that I will never be her ideal." She gave the young girl a once over, satisfied as the happiness that had been building seemed to disappear. "If she thinks I'm a mess, wait until she gets a look at you. So much work still to be done." With that, she turned and continued her way to the living room, leaving little Amber to watch her retreating back with a puzzled frown.

--

A/N: Short one today…


	23. Destitute Hooligan

Characters/Pairing: Prudy Pingleton

Word Count: 448

--

_Prudy could remember a time, long ago it would seem, when her daughter's little feet would lead her to stumble her way around the house; bumping into furniture and taking a pencil to the walls. She could remember a time when little Penny would smile big, toothy grins and hold out colorful flowers for inspection. _

"I am now a Checker Board Chick!" She watched in horror as her daughter pulled that boy to her and kissed him, jaw dropping as he reached up to wrap his arms around her. Stumbling to her feet, she fell before the television, calling out the name of her only child.

_She remembered clutching tightly to her daughter's hand as they walked, skipped in young girl's case, to the store for the daily groceries; both eager to get the best sales and start on a delicious evening meal._

The pattern on Penny's dress looked familiar… ah; the curtains. Prudy had made those for her when Penny turned eight, and Penny had loved them and taken good care of them. They still looked beautiful, even though they were wrapped around her baby girl.

_She could remember when she had her first nightmare. Clutching to her sleeping gown, Penny had cried in her mother's arms until she fell back into a less troubled sleep. She remembered brushing her hair, making sure to teach her daughter the importance of keeping it tangled free – and then quickly looping it in a nice, neat braid._

Dazed, Prudy walked to the phone and dialed a number she knew by heart, waiting for the line to pick up so she could talk to a familiar voice.

"Hello?" It was a young boy; not the voice she hoped to hear, but he could connect her.

"Michael, it's Aunty Prudy. Let me talk to your momma." Her voice was rather calm, even though she felt so lonely on the inside. Tonight, she felt like she had lost something.

"She's right here, Aunty." She heard the phone being passed from one person to the other, and allowed a small smile when she heard her sister's voice.

"Prudence! Did you see? How wonderful, you're Penny's on the television!" Prudy felt the smile drop at her sister's enthusiasm; her head bowed low as she put down the receiver, sister still speaking happily on the other line. She glanced back to the black and white screen which showed all colors of children singing and dancing together, and felt herself deflate before squaring her jaw stubbornly.

She would allow Penny this one night, she decided, and that was it. No daughter of hers was going to run like some destitute hooligan.

…even though she did look beautiful.

--

A/N: …I dunno where this came from… but it probably should have stayed there. :/

Unbeta'd.


	24. Off with Their Heads

Characters/Pairing: Tracy Turnblad/Link Larkin

Word Count: 454

--

Link and Tracy sat together silently, each enjoying the comfort of solitude that was rarely afforded in the crowded lunch room. In front of them sat a box of animal cookies Tracy had brought, and every once in a while, a hungry hand would reach in a grab a handful. Tracy had been watching Link for a while, silent when he would absently reach in, pull out a few, and then eat them in a very peculiar way. Finally feeling utterly curious, she reached out and stopped his hand from bringing an oddly shaped bear to its doom.

"Stop the animal abuse," she joked, watching with amusement as he blinked and focused his attention on her.

"Huh?" He looked confused, eyes shifting from her hand to her face, waiting for an explanation.

"Have you always been so cruel to your animal crackers?" She teased, one eyebrow arching delicately. "You're only eating the heads, and then leaving the bodies in a little pile on your dish… shouldn't you just end their misery and eat them whole?" He looked down to the small pile of headless crackers that sat in the corner of his plate, feeling a bit sheepish for not realizing the reveal of this particular habit.

"Couldn't tell you exactly how long I've been doing it," he brought his hand up and bit off the bears head, chewing thoughtfully as he dropped its body onto the pile below him. "I know when I was little; I used to pretend to be all sorts of animals. So, I thought that if I only ate their heads, it was like getting into their mind." He didn't seem embarrassed to admit it, and Tracy felt herself smile at him.

"Pretty amazing intellect for a kid," she mused, looking at the cat-shaped cracker that sat in her palm. She brought the cracker to her mouth, nibbling on the ear delicately before biting off the head, dropping the body onto his pile. He watched her, an amused grin tugging at his lips as she chewed, then swallowed.

"Wanting to get in the mind of a cat?" He glanced at the elephant he held in his hands, brushing off the crumbs that littered the small body. She grinned at him, batting her eyes coyly.

"Meow?" She titled her head to the side, watching as he broke out in a soft laugh. He bent down to kiss her soundly as she pawed at his arm, and then reluctantly broke the kiss when the lunch bell rang. "Aw," she pouted, looking at the few animal shapes still in her hand. He chuckled, picking up their trays as she put away the remaining cookies.

"Don't worry Trace, there's still the elephant, zebra, lion…"

--

A/N: Unbeta'd.


	25. Goodnight Saigon

Characters/Pairings: Penny/Seaweed Stubbs, Family

Word Count: 599

--

At the age of five Gwendolyn, or Gwenny as they normally just called her, had quite the inquisitive mind. Everything was made to be explored, and there was no such thing as a boring object. Seaweed and Penny, and to some extent her eight year old brother Nathaniel, always indulged in her curiosity; answering questions and helping her learn about the world around her.

So really, it was no surprise that during one period of her well-known explorations, she would come across a few choice objects that would simply beg to be explained. Walking up to her father as he sat in front of the television, she placed a small box in front of him, eyes filled with questions. Seaweed looked down, surprised first at her find, before he gave a small sigh.

"You, young lady," he began with a tiny smile, "are far too nosy for your own good." She beamed in return, knowing that meant he would tell her the story behind the item she had found. Opening the box he heard his son walk out of the kitchen and pause, interest peaked by his sisters surprised gasp.

"Natty," the five year old turned to grin at him, "come look at what Papa's showing me!"

"My name isn't Natty," the eight year old scolded, "so stop calling me that." Either way he walked towards his father and sister, crouching down next to them to examine the contents inside the box.

"But look Natty," she brushed off his reprimand, as she normally did, "they're so many of them – and they're all dirty!" Seaweed smiled at the young girl, enjoying the way her eyes lit up as she reached in to pull out one of many Zippo lighters that were in the box.

"Papa, I didn't know you smoked," Nathaniel turned to look at his father, surprised. Seaweed's smile saddened a bit, before he warmed as he gave his son a light hug.

"I don't. These weren't mine, but I did have one." He looked at Gwendolyn as she examined the carvings.

"What does it say?" She brought the one she held higher so he could read her the inscription.

"Please," Seaweed began, "don't tell me about Vietnam because I have been there." Her eyes widened, surprised, and he heard Nathaniel take in a surprised breath of air.

"These are from the war?" His voice was tinged with excitement, inquisitiveness fully engaged as he looked inside the box with renewed interest.

"Yup. Though, they're more like… souvenirs, now." His voice was peaceful, even if his eyes seemed a bit haunted. No – more like badges of honor, his mind corrected in the silence.

"Why do you have so many?" Gwenny asked, large eyes brimming with a naïve curiosity that warmed his heart. "Did you visit lots of places?"

"These are from the people who died, right?" Nathaniel interrupted his reply, suddenly serious as he held up a particularly dirty lighter. Seaweed remained silent, allowing his son to inspect the dented metal.

"Yes," he answered after a moment, watching as a dawning respect washed into the young boy's eyes.

"They didn't come back," Gwenny murmured, her small hands tracing the carvings of another lighter. She placed the one she held gently in the box, taking the one her brother held from him and laying it to rest with its brothers. She smiled at the older two, a smile that revealed more wisdom than a five year old should have and said, "Better put them back to sleep then, papa. They fought long and hard, and it's time for their goodnight."

--

A/N: Unbeta'd. There's a book that is simply titled "Zippos" – and it inspired this Moment. It's on my Wish List to buy. Hee hee.

The title of this Moment is also inspired by one of my favorite songs from Billy Joel.

Also – a huge thank you to all those who voted for Moments, and anything else me-related. I'm truly honored!

Much love!


	26. The Principle of the Matter

Characters/Pairing: Link Larkin/Tracy Turnblad + Penny Pingleton

Word Count: 912

--

Penny hummed softly as she brushed her hair, making sure to keep it smooth and tangle-free. She glanced at the picture of Seaweed which she normally kept hidden under her pillow and smiled. She never thought she could be as happy as she was when they were together. He made her feel like she was the earth, moon, and stars combined.

She loved him; and loved the feeling of being in love with him.

Standing up to put her brush on her vanity, she jumped in surprise when she heard a tapping sound come from her window. Hoping for a moment it was Seaweed, her anticipation quickly turned to concern when she saw Tracy on the other side of the glass.

"Tracy," she whispered as she opened the window, noting the distraught look on her friend's face. "What's wrong?" Tracy climbed in, careful to tuck her dress in as she did so, and waited for Penny to close the window before turning to face her completely.

"Hi Penny, I'm sorry to bother you…" She looked to the ground and Penny examined her friend closely. She wore a light pink dress that flowed freely down her body, and her hair had been done up with little butterflies sprinkled throughout. She had a little bit of gloss to accent her lips; and if it weren't for the tear steaks down her cheeks, she would have looked simply gorgeous. Penny gasped.

"Didn't you have a date with Link today?" Tracy attempted to smile, but it quickly fell as she gave away to a soft sob.

"Oh, Penny! I don't know what to do! The date was going fine; it was really romantic, and Link was very sweet… But then something happened… and we kind of had a fight…" Penny offered the other girl some tissues and ran a soothing had down her back.

"A fight?" She frowned thoughtfully before adding, "about what?"

"Well," Tracy sniffed, blowing her nose with another tissue, "we were eating dinner at a really nice restaurant; and like I said – all was going well. Then some jerk started to make fun of me… you know, the normal 'fat, pig, and look at her eat'…" She blotted her eyes once more, taking a deep breath to calm her breathing. Penny waited patiently for her to continue, nodding to let her know she understood. "I told him not to worry about it, but Link got angry. I know he doesn't want anyone to talk bad about me – but I'm used to it!"

Penny nodded, hand moving from Tracy's back to hold her hand and give it a comforting squeeze. Tracy gave her a small smile before she continued.

"So, Link snapped at the other guy – and I guess the other guy was really drunk or something because he started to cause a bigger scene than he already had. I told Link to just forget it, but he refused to listen! The other guy was ready to punch him, and Link was just being so stubborn!" She bit her lip, frowning as she did so. "Finally, I just got so frustrated that I told him 'since you'd rather spend your time listening to him, I'm leaving' – and I left. Penny," she faced the taller girl completely, "I just left him there! I know he called out to me, but I was so angry that I just kept walking and didn't stop."

"Oh Tracy," Penny whispered, giving her hand another reassuring squeeze, "he was just trying to protect you…"

"Yes, I know – but why wouldn't he listen to me? I don't need him to protect me from that!" She huffed, tears finally calmed as she looked to the floor. "I love that he wanted to and that it was important to him – but I didn't need that. I didn't want that. I… I just wanted him to focus on me, and not what that stupid idiot was saying." Penny sighed, unsure of how she should comfort her friend. Glancing out her window, she felt a small smile break out over her face.

"I think there's a lost puppy outside my window," she nudged Tracy, making her friend look up. Tracy looked out the window and saw Link standing there, guilt written clearly on his face. He was biting his lip, but making no further effort to come in. Tracy frowned and quickly turned away from him, furiously rubbing at her tear-streaked cheeks.

"I don't want to talk to him," she whispered stubbornly, refusing to turn back to face him. Penny saw his expression crumble at her refusal, and her heart went out to him.

"Why don't you just talk to him, Trace? He looks awfully sorry out there…" She stood from her bed and walked to the door, "I'm going to go get us a few glasses of lemonade; so give him a chance while I'm gone, okay?" She opened the door and walked out, shutting it firmly behind her. Inside, Tracy fiddled with the hem of her dress as she chanced a peak behind her. Link still stood outside, watching her with solemn eyes. She turned back around and started stubbornly at the floor, not wanting to give in to him just yet. Before the end of the night, she already knew she'd forgive him; but while Penny was stalling with lemonade, and he was using his best puppy-dog expression, she was determined to make him wait a bit longer – if only on principle.

--

A/N: …to be continued. Unbeta'd.


	27. You'll Know

Characters/Pairing: Link Larkin/Tracy Turnblad + Penny Pingleton

Word Count: 592

--

She managed to keep the façade of fading anger up until he began to sing _Can't Help Falling in Love_, keeping his voice low. Darn him, she sighed; bringing out the Elvis was just a little unfair. She turned to face him, tear streaks completely gone. He gave her an unsteady smile, hope flittering across his eyes. She quickly walked over to the window and opened it in one smooth motion, pulling him in before she shut it again.

"You're going to get Penny in trouble, standing out there like that," she scolded, and he nodded once before he pulled her in his arms.

"I'm sorry Tracy," he started, guilt coming off him in waves. "I didn't mean to just go off like that and ignore you; I was just so mad at that idiot for calling you names and disturbing our date…" She pulled away slightly, meeting his worried gaze with her calm one.

"I told you to ignore it," she frowned, "that it didn't matter."

"I know, I know," he worried his lip. "I'm sorry, I just…" He sighed and pulled away completely, sitting on Penny's bed with an aggravated huff. "I just forget what a strong person you are sometimes, that you don't need me to protect you." Tracy watched him silently, eyes blinking in surprise.

Is that what this was all about?

She laughed softly and sat next to him, taking his larger hand in hers. "You're a silly man, Mr. Larkin." Link stared at her quietly, confusing decorating his handsome features. "Don't worry about that," she continued, watching him with a small smile. "It's alright if I don't need you to fight for my now, I'm sure one day – I will." She used her free hand to trace the curl of his hair, and then followed the outline of his face until her palm rested warm against his cheek. She kissed him gently, "and when I need you, you'll know. Until then-"

"You can handle it," he finished for her, humming softly under the soothing comfort her presence provided.

"I can handle it," she agreed. His eyes drifted to the floor, watching the reflection of the night table in his shoes.

"Got it," he replied finally, keeping his voice as still as he could. Tracy watched him, silent for a moment longer before she squeezed his hand, getting him to bring sad blue eyes to focus on her again.

"Link," she said softly, "I can handle it… because you give me the strength to. Silly comments and harsh words are nothing because you're by my side. So, even if I don't need you to fight for me, you're still protecting me. Just in a different way, okay…?" He watched her for a moment longer before he gave her a firm nod and pulled her into a loose embrace, satisfied that he still held something of a protector's roll in her eyes.

Sending a quick glance to the doorway, he gave Penny a brief smile to where she stood, and she returned it. Placing the glasses of citrusy liquid on the floor, she gave a short wave and then walked back down the hall to keep her mother from becoming too curious.

In all honesty, he was just glad she was in his arms and had forgiven him. He figured she didn't need to know that in his rush to follow her, he had _accidentally_ left the drunkard unconscious in the outside parking lot.

He was pretty sure he couldn't be at fault for having long, stumble-encouraging legs.

--

A/N: …I think I need sleep.


	28. Eight Tiny Candles

Characters/Pairing: Maybelle + Seaweed + Inez

Word Count: 427

--

"Inez, if I'm going to do this – you _have_ to stop giggling," Seaweed sighed, slowly lowering his hands to rest at his side. In front of him, Lil' Inez continued to giggle, ducking her head in an effort to escape her brother's bap to her head.

"I can't help it! It tickles!" She looked back up at him, mirth shining brightly in her eyes.

"I'm not trying to tickle you; but you have to hold still and stop giggling." Seaweed tried again, lifting his hands to rest on her shoulders. "Ready?" Inez sat upright in her chair, eyes trained on the button of his shirt as she bit her lip.

"I will do my best not to giggle, sir." She nodded once, feeling his hands life away from her body as he reached to the counter to pick up the offensive tickle-causing instrument.

"Now turn around," Seaweed instructed, and Inez did so, turning to face herself in the mirror. "Here we go," he mumbled, and brought down his hand, pulling the brush through the tangled mess of hair Inez demanded that he tame. He made it once, then twice, before the giggles erupted again and her shoulders shook with the effort to keep them down.

"Seaweed," she managed between giggles, hand clasping over her mouth, "it tickles!" Her brother huffed, and then put the brush back on the counter, throwing up his hands in frustration.

"I give up! I don't know why you wanted me to brush your hair in the first place! Isn't that a girl-thing?" He glared at her reflection, watching as she came down from her recent wave of giggles.

"Yes," she smiled at him, running her fingers through the few newly untangled strands. "But it's my birthday and you said you'd do one thing for me." She offered him a toothy smile, waiting for him to begin anew.

"Did it have to be this, though? Momma's better at it," he whined, picking up the brush again.

"She is," she agreed, leaning in when she felt the brush work its way through her hair, "but she doesn't make me laugh as much."

Seaweed rolled his eyes before giving her a devilish grin, "well birthday girl, if it's laughter you want, why didn't you say so?" And before Inez could even question her brother's motives, fingers dashed quickly to her sides, a full-on assault of tickling causing her to scream with laughter.

Back in the kitchen, Maybelle felt a smile creep on her lips as she placed eight small candles onto a perfectly decorated cake.

--

A/N: Yay, thirty chapters! Certainly didn't think I'd make it this far… thanks for everyone's support! You all have been awesome! Here's hoping for many more! Unbeta'd.


	29. Little Lady

Characters/Pairing: Tracy/Link Larkin + OC

Word Count: 400

--

Link felt he was hypnotized. He watched her little chest rise and fall, further in sleep than a light doze, and felt his own chest tighten. Her soft brown hair was curled about her head, creating a chocolate halo. Her brilliant blue eyes, a gift from him, were shut in slumber; dreaming whatever it was that little girls dreamed.

How was it that something so perfect, so innocent and beautiful; could be his little girl? She was heaven sent, that much he knew. When she had been born, Tracy had looked up at him, eyes full of tears and simply smiled as she tiredly held their daughter. It had been one of the most poignant instants of his life. At that moment, Link had almost fallen to his knees; so overcome with emotion and love and just feeling _alive_ that it had virtually robbed him of his strength.

He watched as little Leslie Elizabeth Larkin shifted slightly in her sleep, rolling over in the bed. She was growing up too fast, and the thought that one day he'd walk her down the aisle scared him. Soon she'd be dressing in heels, wearing make-up, and curling her hair. She'd have boys calling, and gossip with friends about latest fashions. She'd—

"Hun," he jumped slightly as he felt warm arms wrap around his waist and his wife snuggle into his back. "She's only four… you still have time." He turned in her arms, eyes locking with hers.

"I forget that you know me so well," he whispered, kissing her forehead gently as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Mhm, now get to bed. It's late and Lord knows how long you would have just stood here." She pulled away from him, sending their daughter a loving glance before walking towards their bedroom.

"Yeah, I'll be right there." He watched her round the corner, and then turned back around to face the sleeping child. He smiled and softly closed the door, pausing before turning to leave, one hand still resting on the knob. Lifting his free hand, he kissed the finger tips softly. Feeling more than a little trite, he undetectably inscribed her initials on the door, feeling his heart swell once more.

As he walked to join his wife in their bedroom, he prayed to whatever higher being he could call to mind that she would remember to stay his little lady.

--

A/N: I had intended to post this after the sequel to The Rebirth of Amber Von Tussle was done, but being that I'm 99.5% sure I won't be able to even finish the first part, I figured it wouldn't hurt to post it now.

I love the image of Link as a father. There's something about it that's so… nostalgic, almost.

Unbeta'd.


	30. Training Day

Characters/Pairing: Tracy/Link + OCs [Sort Of...]

Word Count: 759

Link ran around the house, chasing after a giggling little girl who wore nothing but her diaper.

"Olive, really – I need to get you dressed before you catch a cold," he yelled after her, but only received an answering giggle as she ducked under a table.

"Tag!" She laughed, watching him crawl on his hands and knees to reach her. She laughed again as he finally grabbed her chubby legs, holding her close to him as he made his way out from under the table.

"Oh, you caught her," his wife appeared at the doorway, holding the hand of Olive's older brother.

"She's so fast," he grumbled as the little girl laughed again, her eyes lighting up at the site of her brother.

"Ewic!" she stretched out her hands and the little boy smiled brightly at her. Letting go of Tracy's hand, he walked towards Link and looked up at her younger sister.

"Mom said we gotta be good, Olive. Don't make Mr. Larkin chase you so much," he tried his best to scold, but his younger sister simply laughed again. Link sighed and made his way towards the spare room, where all the kids belongings were. Inside he found the oldest of the four siblings, James and Marla, playing a card game. They both looked up when he entered, Eric and Tracy both following him into the room.

"I never thought babysitting would give me such a work out," Link sighed, placing the little girl on one of the beds in the room as he began rooting through overnight bag that had been waiting for him.

"She likes to play," James said as he picked a card up from the deck, eyes brightening as he looked at whatever was in his hand.

"Any two's?" Marla asked, and then looked up at Link, "and she likes you!"

"Goldfish," her brother sang, eyes glinting happily. "Any fives?"

"You said you didn't have it when I asked!" She glared, handing him the card from her own hand.

"I just got it," was his reply as Eric sat down next to him, observing his older siblings to learn what they were playing. Tracy laughed as Marla huffed, and Link put the now finally dressed Olive down so she could go sit with her siblings. The young couple watched the four children as they sat in a circle, the older siblings arguing as they played their game, the younger boy trying to help his older brother cheat while drinking from a glass of grape juice that had been next to the deck, and the youngest daughter laughing at her sister's dwindling card pile as she chewed on a discarded Joker.

"How do you like the full house, Mr. Larkin," Tracy asked, giving her husband a big smile.

"I don't know where they get the energy; I'm exhausted just by chasing around a toddler!" His hand covered his eyes and he sighed wearily. Tracy laughed.

"You're doing rather well, though." She put a small hand on her growing belly, rubbing it lightly. "Soon we'll have our own little one to run after." He grinned then, feeling reenergized, and placed a long arm on her shoulders.

"True," he smiled, giving her a light squeeze, "I better learn to build up my stamina if I have any hope of keeping up with our kid." A loud giggle broke the moment as they looked up to see Olive had managed to dump the glass of grape juice on her once clean dress. She licked her fingers as her siblings laughed while trying to find something to clean up the mess, Eric bemoaning the loss of his drink.

"We'll consider this training," Tracy laughed as she helped the children save the cards before they got wet. Olive looked up at Link and grinned, seeming to know this event would mean a bath, which would mean she would get to play tag with him again.

"This is more tiring then when we danced on the show," Link moaned, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and handing it to Tracy. She laughed again and together they managed to save the cards and clean up the mess. Looking at the once clean, now sticky, Olive who was already up on her feet, Link figured he'd give her a head start. She was out the door and laughing wildly and Tracy grinned as he turned to give chase. Hearing him shout for the little girl to stop running already, her grin blossomed into a smile. Link would make an amazing father.

A/N: Un'beta'd… I'm so rusty at writing!

This little ficlet is for a dear friend, who's trying to convince her Muse to come back from vacation. Names changed to protect the innocent... ;) Hope you don't mind bein' the inspiration love!

Keep writing!


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